This article by Steven Everts was originally published in Dutch in NRC on 7 February 2025 under the title 'Alleen als je sterk bent kun je vrij blijven'. It is reproduced here in English with the permission of NRC.
It is wise for the EU not to bend too much to Trump's whims, argues Steven Everts. Europe needs to develop its own power.
No one can keep up anymore. Since his inauguration, Donald Trump has unleashed a tsunami of initiatives, threats, and decisions upon the world. Every day brings a new target and another broken taboo: Panama, Greenland, Canada, Mexico, the International Criminal Court, and Gaza as the new "Riviera of the Middle East."
Domestically, too, the revolution rages on: entire agencies are set to disappear, such as the foreign aid organisation USAID. CIA agents are being asked en masse to accept buyouts. And a handful of Elon Musk's confidants have gained access to the inner sanctum of the federal payments system.
Of course, some decisions are quickly reversed, paused, or only half-implemented. But the tornado continues. And the effect—overwhelm and disorientation—is deliberate. "Flood the zone," said Steve Bannon. "Move fast and break things" is the mantra of the tech bros. The rest of the world watches in bewilderment, wondering: what on earth is happening? And more importantly, what should we do? Stay still, give in, or push back? If so, how, and with whom?
Trump thinks in terms of power and deals. Unpredictability is a tool to exert pressure.
Everything starts with a diagnosis and the shedding of illusions. This is not a repeat of 2016. Trump is much stronger now, and Europe is weaker—more politically divided than before and with a war on its border. We must take the Trump phenomenon seriously and be realistic about what it means.
Trump thinks in terms of power and deals. Unpredictability is a tool to exert pressure. Every negotiation is a battle in which everything is interconnected. Not that Trump is a master negotiator, by the way—his results often disappoint. For him, it is mostly about attention and spectacle.
Europe is his antithesis. It operates in terms of rules and mutual trust. It places a premium on reasonable behaviour, as it must continue working together the next day. Each issue is handled on its own merits.
This contrast explains much of the wishful thinking about Trump: if we keep repeating how much America benefits from the post-war world order and the transatlantic relationship, Trump will eventually realise it, and things will work out. Some believe we should placate him by, for instance, buying more liquefied natural gas and American weapons—something we need for our own defence anyway. For some in Brussels and The Hague, this remains the best option: bending to keep the "system" intact.
But there is also a growing sense that something fundamental is shifting. This week marked the annual conference of EU ambassadors—a good barometer of how "Europe in the world" is faring. Normally, EU leaders deliver rather formulaic speeches, listing past successes and outlining bright prospects for the future. This time, it felt different.
Ursula von der Leyen gave a more pragmatic speech: we must see the world as it is, not as we wish it to be. On the US, she said Europe must remain "calm and cool-headed," "open and pragmatic" in negotiations but always ready to defend its own interests. "By any means necessary," she added. There was no talk of shared values—only of seizing opportunities elsewhere: new trade agreements with Mercosur, the South American bloc, and Mexico; a visit by the entire European Commission to India at the end of February; a summit with China in May and with Africa at the end of the year. It sounded like a pitch to the rest of the world: Europe as a reliable alternative—open for business, resistant to threats and bluster.
This week also brought news that the European Commission is prepared to deploy its new "anti-economic coercion tool" if Trump launches an economic offensive. Originally designed for China, it could now prove useful as Trump accuses the EU of behaving "outrageously" in trade and the regulation of big tech companies. This instrument allows for a range of countermeasures, including import restrictions, tariffs, and the revocation of licences. Crucially, it requires only a qualified majority, meaning a handful of Trump allies in certain capitals cannot block it. In Brussels, this is called the "bazooka," because it could hit not only trade in goods but also services—including the interests of Trump's tech friends. That the bazooka is now on the table is a welcome sign of strategic thinking in power politics.
Defence
Europe has traditionally been in a weaker position here, but there is now a renewed sense of commitment. Prime Minister Schoof was absent from Monday’s informal EU summit due to illness, but other heads of government made it clear that they are finally making real efforts to invest in their own defence capabilities. "Creative" solutions are being considered, such as loosening fiscal rules, mobilising the European Investment Bank, and even Eurobonds for defence. Afterwards, European Council President António Costa stated that, partly because of Trump, there is now a real sense of urgency. We have heard this before, but perhaps this time it is finally true.
When Costa addressed the EU ambassadors, something remarkable happened. He emphasised the need to uphold international law and protect the territorial integrity of nations. He mentioned Ukraine and the Middle East, as expected. But then he added: "Of course, also here in Europe, in the Kingdom of Denmark." Spontaneous applause erupted from the EU diplomats—who usually respond with indifference or cynicism to speeches by EU leaders.
People understand that this is a new world, where threats come from all directions—including from "big brother" America. And that the only way to remain free is by building power ourselves.
